The Moonstone Starlet

Chapter 46

She always fell asleep easy but her sleep was anything but easy. Like a ship caught in a storm, she rocked and rolled in waves. He had learned to quell her restlessness early on, wrapping his arms around her tightly and never letting go, like a captain steadying the helm. And when the night had cleared and the sun shone again her face was bright and serene like blooming flowers after a spring rain. He always hoped to wake before her to catch the moment. And so each morning began in this new paradise where he had finally won his prize, that long sought after jewel. A million men had lusted for this siren. He liked to think he had noticed her first, before anyone else, and so she was always meant to be his. The Mission had made her a household name, the film that debuted her newly legal eighteen year old body to the masses of horny old men and hormonally surging teenage boys. Of course, she was a heroine to women everywhere. An angle for everyone. Remember she had already won best actress at all the awards the previous year, for that movie nobody had seen except the film festival faithfuls? Remember she won those horse races?

Jon was not a film festival faithful, or a racing fan but his mother took over the television for one night a year and that was to watch the Academy Awards. “Ce soir appartient à moi,” she would say, asserting her dominance over the evening viewing decision. There she was, a girl next door dressed in a couture gown, walking along a red carpet, surrounded by people a foot taller than she was. Clearly uncomfortable and feeling out of place. Her eyes looked radiant against the green of the dress and the gold of her eye shadow. They waited all night, and then Denzel Washington called her name, announcing she had beaten the likes of veterans Nicole Kidman, Diane Lane, Julianne Moore. She said something to Denzel, out of microphone reach, and he laughed. And then, in front of tens of millions of viewers, she didn't thank God, she didn't thank her boyfriend, or her mom or dad. “Statistics estimate that every two minutes in America a sexual assault occurs, and only 40% are reported to police,” she started to say, “I want to dedicate this moment to all the women, men, boys and girls who have written me that the film Speak helped give them the courage to speak, and especially to those who suffer in silence.” She talked for a little over two minutes on the subject to a silent room. The band never started playing to cut her off, the show was never sent to commercial. This diminutive girl, going on international television and ignoring the protocol for the event, standing up for what she believed. Jon always followed the rules, he avoided debate or confrontation. He admired her. A crush was born.

It lasted through high school. In between hockey practice and working out he watched all her films. Again with actor commentary. He read all her magazines, saw all her talk show appearances. But, by the time he went to college he had moved on. Hockey, parties, class, more hockey and girls. In the aftermath of being drafted to the Blackhawks he momentarily wondered if he would ever see her in Chicago. Every so often somebody would have a story of having seen her. Out at a restaurant, a concert, smoking out on the street. Aaron Johnson and James Wisniewski once met her at a house party in Lincoln Park, and talked about it for weeks. They even played beer pong against her and San Francisco Giants pitcher Brian Wilson. By the end of the night she was hammered and started getting angry at everyone. Her boyfriend at the time, Tim Lincecum, was calmly telling her “girl, you got no chill,” over and over. “He was so fuckin' chill man, and she was a crazy bitch,” Wisniewski told everyone. Usually though, when someone did see her, she was quietly drinking alone. Jon wasn't sure what to think about that. On tv she was always bright and gregarious.

He didn't have to wonder about it long. A year after that it was announced she would be working with the team. Elia Downs would be in Jon's locker room. Every day, for the entire season. It must have been fate.

The sun was rising earlier every day now that spring was pushing winter away. Her eyes would open as the light came in the window, and as soon as she saw his face she would smile. Her smile would make him smile.
“Have you been awake long?” she always asked.
“Just woke up,” he would always lie. She would look at him with such endearment, such contentment, as if getting to see him every morning made her the luckiest girl in the world. How could he ruin that? Truthfully, he hadn't been sleeping well since the concussion. Have you experienced any sleep disturbances? His doctor always asked. No, he would answer.
Elia was already worried enough after what happened last week. It happened in the middle of sex, their fifth time, the first time they had surpassed the standard missionary position. They were in the kitchen and Elia had just poured a cup of coffee when he came up behind her, pushed her into the counter and pulled down her boyshorts. It only lasted a few minutes when he started to get intense waves of pain in his head. The room started spinning, and he stumbled backwards. “Jonny!” she had yelled, turning around and grabbing his arm. She helped lower him to the floor where he lay down waiting for the pressure in his mind to subside. His boxers still around his ankles, it was embarrassing. He tried to play it off as dehydration but she knew. Post-concussion syndrome.

His doctor ordered him to stop skating at practice after that. He could hide his exercise intolerance at practice, but once Elia found out that was over. No more skating, no more working out, no more sex. If they thought he was sitting out once playoffs started they were crazy.
Part of him felt terrible for lying to her, but the other part of him rationalized that it was for her own good. For their own good. He wanted to enjoy the beginning of their togetherness, not be cared for like a child. Jon wanted to revel in the moments of falling more in love, not worry every second about his brain. They had been friends for so long, he had assumed it would be almost the same, just with sex. It was surprisingly different. Elia was more at ease, happier than he had ever seen her. She had become sweeter and more affectionate.
One night at dinner she pulled a folded piece of paper from her coat pocket, the inside pocket, close to her chest.
“I wrote a poem about you, I'm going to have Cillo help me turn it into a song,” she said, her thin naked lips turning upwards nervously. “It's called 'God Bless the Broken Road.”
“That's a Rascal Flats song,” he had replied, although he suspected she was well aware of that fact.
“Oh! LOL, just kidding,” she said, literally saying 'lol' and rolling her eyes. The light danced on her green eyes like emeralds in a jewelry store on Michigan Avenue. She was making a joke. A preemptive deflection. Her defense mechanism. Whenever she was about to show any vulnerability she always set up a joke first. Set the mood, so if it didn't turn out how she'd hoped she could laugh it off. Lol, I was just joking, she would say. He waited for the day she could express her feelings for him without the introduction. Then he would know for sure.
The day came only a week later, in the form of a hand bound illustrated short story. The perks of being with an artist, you never knew what sort of treasure they would present to you. “I made this for you,” she would often say, and he was always surprised by what “this” turned out to be. Like the cat that kept bringing dead animals to the back door. A bird, a dragonfly, a rat. A poem, a picture, a painting. There was no announcement or joke, this time, just a simple handing over of said book. It was mid morning, he was lying in bed, resting, and she walked up in her underwear and a tank top. She lay down next to him and they held the book up and read together. It was a children's book, about a lonely king that lived in a castle made of ice and ruled over a happy, thriving snow land. His life revolved around keeping his kingdom together, and he never thought of himself. Until one day, he met rainbow princess. She was bright and cheerful, and exploded colors and light in every direction. Everyone loved her and thought she was the life of every party. But really, inside, she was lost and couldn't control her light. Until she met Ice King and he showed her how to channel her light through the shards of ice, and together they lit up the castle.
“They saved each other,” she said, turning her head on the pillow to look at him. “They did,” he affirmed. And then she was setting the book down, and taking off his boxers, and kissing down his chest.

The unusually mild winter had transitioned into an unusually warm spring. A heat wave mid March sent temperatures into the 70's and 80's. The bare trees in the backyard let the sun shine down exposing the tangle of overgrown weeds and decaying leaves. The dog and the chickens and the cats pawed through the debris, digging, playing and looking for insects. Jon and Elia spent hours outside, making plans for spring and summer. Along the north side of the deck where the sun hit they would build boxes to plant their tomato seedlings, zucchinis and summer squash. Jon had plans to build a trellis line across the back for the vines. They could cover part of the patio, just a ways from the sliding door, and in the summer storms they could sit out back and watch the rain come down. There was room for a small fire pit in the back of the yard, if they dug it out and bought some simple cement blocks. Elia wasn't sure that was legal in the city, which made it even more fun. Getting Jonny to do bad things held it's own kind of thrill.

Some afternoons the neighbor kids would come over and Jon and Elia would put them to work. Jack and Caroline. Elia had once remarked that their parents must love Kennedys, but of course the children didn't get what that meant. They were seven now, first graders, and could handle more responsibilities. Especially since they had proven themselves good chicken keepers. Jon showed them how to use a staple gun to fix the chicken wire on the coop. They raked leaves and dead brush, dug out weeds. They found worms and screamed, and Elia explained to them how worms give nutrients back to the soil and make things grow. They ran up to Jon with worms wriggling in their hands, making sure he knew about it too. At times like that he forgot about the concussion, the missing practice and games. He was a man who loved a woman, and they were going through a life together.

He should have felt content, he should have felt confident all the time, but he didn't. They were still hiding their relationship. Another lie he had told her, that he agreed with the idea. That he understood why she would want to keep it between them until summer. To him it seemed a lot like her previous relationship. Hide it until it can't be hidden anymore. The weeks were passing by and she still hadn't said those three little words. He heard her use them all the time, to other people. Reading a script for an upcoming movie, “Oh my god I love the Nolan brothers, they're nuts!” Talking on the phone, “Est-ce que tu pourrais dire a Vero, coucou! Au revoir, je t-aime Fleur!” And then of course, the business with Biz, (“Biz, I fucking love that guy,”). The business trip to Arizona that included hiking in the desert and attempting to set up a slip 'n slide in the HoHoKam outfield lawn seats.

He brought it up to Kane one day after practice. Patrick had driven him back to Elia's house after a morning skate, and Jon invited him in for some video games. Elia was out doing hot yoga with Mrs. Sharpie and said she probably wouldn't be back until the afternoon. They took some chips and hummus and went downstairs to play games. Jon had stocked the bar fridge with gatorade, which Elia didn't want anyone to drink anymore. It had bromenated vegetable oil in it. Third little lie.
“Black Ops 2 or Fifa?” Jon asked.
“Black Ops might be too much for you right now, let's go with Fifa,” Kane said, walking around to grab a controller. The room was in unusual disarray. Empty bottles of water, Gatorade, Jon's laptop on the floor, socks. Everything Jon's.
“Are you living here?” Pat asked.
“Sort of. I guess I haven't been home in about a week.” Jon replied. He hadn't realized it until Kane asked. When Elia wasn't home he mostly played video games, and had sort of taken on the home theater room as his. “Has El said anything to you about it?” he asked.
“I try to avoid talking to El about you because its nauseating.” Pat replied. He already got lots of unsolicited texts full of emoticons about every cute thing Jon had done since they started dating.
“It bothers me a little that she doesn't want anyone to know we're together,” Jon said hesitantly. He had never really discussed his relationships with Pat, but then again he had never had a real relationship before.
“I wouldn't let that bother you. It's not like that at all. It's not even that well kept of a secret. She told me, she told my mom, she told Carcillo, Abby Sharp knows so I assume Sharpie knows. People who are actually in your lives know already. People who don't actually know you are the people she doesn't want to be gossiping about it.”
“All of the internet thinks she's been dating Paul Bissonnette and that doesn't seem to bother her at all,” Jon said, with a little too much scorn. Maybe it bothered him more than he even realized. Pat could hear it in his voice, the doubt, the jealousy. It was concerning. He could tell from time spent with Elia that she was 100% committed to Jon. That was how Elia always did things, once she made up her mind about something she didn't look back. He didn't want to be in the middle of this if it blew up.
“Jon, you need to get over that, fast. You know, I spend more time with Elia than Paul, I've literally slept in the same bed as her, I've seen her naked at least three times, I've kissed her, and are you worried about me?” Pat asked.
“Of course not, I trust you. You're like a brother to me.” Jon said.
“Elia, you mean.”
“What?”

Notes

It looks like everyone is shipping Elia&Jon?
The next chapter should be posted in the next few days.
Thanks for reading!